


When I need you most

by wayward_detective



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Character Death, Fluff, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:40:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_detective/pseuds/wayward_detective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam's job was to heal people, and he honestly to God felt he was good at it. But in the end, he couldn't save the one he really wanted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I need you most

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfiction here. Please, be kind to it... nah, just kidding, give me your honest opinions, I can take it.
> 
> Title is form the song My Fault, by Imagine Dragons

Liam threw another empty can of beer at the garbage, missing it again. He could count in the fingers of just one hand the ones he actually managed to set in the last three days, but he’s just not strong enough to make any mental effort. And he honestly doesn’t think he’ll ever be again.

You see, Liam’s a doctor. A _good one_. He worked for one year at the New Cross Hospital, back in his home town, Wolverhampton, until he went invited to work on Royal Free, on London.

Liam really liked his job. It just felt so good to help this people, to actually make something for the mankind, instead of just sit there and complain, as most people do. And he started to like it even more when he met Harry.

Harry was three years younger than him, and was almost in the end of med school. He was on pre-service at the hospital, and decided to help on the oncology sector.

That is where they both met. If Liam closes his eyes, he can still see the halo of brown curls bounce around the infant ICU, making those little children smile again, and laugh of how silly he was.

He can remember his stupid jokes, or their “special Thursday coffee break”, because that was the day Louis and Niall always snogged in the cafeteria while they thought nobody else was there, but Liam and Harry always were, hidden, just to laugh at how clumsy they get whenever someone else walked in (and there was always someone to walk in, even if they had to call Eleanor to do so).

But Liam can’t remember the exactly day when he fell in love with Harry. Neither the day when he finally admitted it to himself. But he will never forget the day he admitted it to Harry.

They had been dating for two years. Harry had finished the college, and now they were actual co-workers. You may think that two years is really a long time to take before you admit your feelings, but the thing with Liam is that he was very cautious with his heart. He had seen so many stop beating to just give his recklessly (that was the bad side of his job, the death; but he always knew how much pain these people were going through, so he just had to repeat to himself it was for the better, he did everything he could) (it helped, while there were strangers the ones to die).

It was one of the rare days when they both were off. They were just hanging on Liam’s couch, deciding if that new movie everyone was talking about was really worth leaving the apartment to go to the cinema or not, when Harry started to feel sick. It was just something in his belly, probably of trying to beat Niall in a who-eats-more-slices-of-extra-pepper-pizza game the night before. But it just get worst and worst, until he was on the bathroom, throwing up all the contents of his stomach (and a considerably big amount of blood) in the toilet. Liam was by his side, rubbing his back, while dialing the emergency’s number. By the time they made it, Harry had passed out, and Liam was holding onto him for dear life, whispering repeatedly _I love you, I love you, I love you babe, please don’t leave me._

He remembers pacing back and forth in the waiting room, sending mental apologizes to everyone he ever made wait that long before saying the final diagnostic. That was pure torture.

But when Niall came, he didn’t have a final diagnostic. He said they’re going to make a few exams, and Harry’d have to stay in the hospital for a bit. But he was way better, just sleeping.

The next days Liam made a habit of visiting Harry whenever he had the tiniest break, and his boyfriend actually looked better. They were even making plans of a “welcome home party” (of course, it’d be just the two of them, so it might as well be called “welcome home sex”).

Liam still remembers getting the file. It was the first in the pile of his new patients, people who had been diagnosed with cancer really recently. That was one of the worst parts, telling them. Sure, to some people, he could be all positive, because it was only on the beginning, and the chances of cure were really high. But his new case wasn’t one of these: it was on final stage, for the exams; he’d say a year tops for that person. That until he saw the name of the patient.

Harry Styles.

Just… no.

Liam closed his eyes, and counted to ten. It was a mistake, for sure. He read the file cautiously, looking desperately for something, anything, that would say they messed up with the samples and Harry did not have cancer. He even went to the lab talk to Louis, but he knew Louis wouldn’t do that. Especially not with Harry. The minute he crossed the door into the lab and they saw each other, Louis started to cry, and Liam couldn’t help but follow him.

Niall offered to give Harry the news, because Liam could barely walk. But they all knew that Harry would prefer hearing this from his boyfriend (not that he’d like to hear this from his boyfriend, nobody likes to hear this, no matter who is saying; it just would hurt less).

And so he did. There were crying, yes, loads of it. But Liam didn’t promise Harry things would be alright, because both of them knew it wouldn’t. So they just talked, saying every little thing they always wanted to tell the other. And if Liam spend that night cuddling with Harry, and singing softly for him to sleep, then is not of the nurses’ business, don’t matter how much times they wanted to sneak a peek on the “faded lovebirds”.

Liam did try his best after all. He did everything he could to make Harry’s life last as long as possible. He didn’t give up, not even for a second. If Harry already was all his world before, now he was the entire universe. He stopped doing anything other than work and go back to home, to Harry.

A year passed, and Harry was still there. Still alive. But not whole. He was close, and he was really tired. All his body hurt, and he spent the biggest part of the time in a semi-sleep state, not resting, yet not awake.

Liam remembers the day Harry passed away. No, scratch that. He remembers Harry passing away. He has zero idea if it was sunny or rainy, what day of the week it was, if he worked or not, if they did anything. He just remember looking deeply into Harry’s green eyes, caressing his now hairless head and knowing that he was ready to go, but he would stay if Liam wanted him to.

“You can go, Harry”

_“Are you sure?”_

Liam closed his eyes as the tears wined.

“I love you, and I always will”

_“I love you too, Li. Take care of Lou and Nini. And of the children. You’re an amazing doctor, never forget that”_

Harry smiled sweetly at him, the dimples in his cheeks growing deeper than they had in the last few months.

_“Goodnight, Li”_

 

A knock on the door dragged Liam out of the memories, bringing him back to his depressive and painful present. He would have ignored the door, but then he wouldn’t be Liam, the cute, polite boy.

He got up for what could be the fifth time in three days, making a mental bet if it was Louis, or Niall, or Louis and Niall, trying to get him out of his cave (but don't think he didn't leave his apartment anymore; hell, he still was a acting doctor). He opened the door already making an excuse to why he looked a hell of a lot like a homo, but he closed his mouth the minute he looked out of the door.

It wasn’t Louis, or Niall, or even Louis and Niall.

It was a stranger guy, and Liam was only in his sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt (and if that shirt used to be Harry’s, Liam really hadn’t realize that when he put it on).

_“Huh… you’re Liam Payne, right?”_

Liam blinked one, two times. “… Yes? In what may I help you?”

The stranger looked down at his shoes, moving his feet slightly. He was really good looking, with tanned skin and jet black hair. He had a lot of tattoos on his arm, and his bone structure was great. He chuckled lightly, looking up again to reveal hazel eyes. He looked familiar.

_“’m name is Zayn Malik, I, hm, I’m here to thank you.”_

Liam raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

_“You’re an oncologist, right?”_ Liam nodded. _“Well, huh, it’s just that today would be my granddad 80th birthday, if he hadn’t passed away two months ago. And he used to be your patient.”_

Liam chuckled coldly.

“Oh, yeah, right, because every doctor likes to be remembered of all the patients he killed. If you want to blame me, wait on the line.”

Zayn stared at him blankly. Liam usually wasn’t that cold. It’s just that, well, in that day, exactly three years ago, Harry died. He was being rude, he knew. But he just couldn’t care less. He was halfway closing the door when Zayn shook his head and put his feet on the doorway.

_“Shit, no! That’s not what I meant! I_ am _here to thank you! If it wasn’t for you, he’d never get that far, and he wouldn’t have seen me publish my book! He always told me how much of a good doctor you are, and how he owed everything to you…and I just thought I could, I don’t know, try to thank you, maybe?”_

Liam sighed, but let go of the door, coming back to his room. He could hear Zayn following him, a little unsure.

“Good doctor…” He muttered under his breath, but apparently it was loud enough that Zayn could hear him, because when he turned around, his eyebrows were raised in a questioning look. Liam couldn’t help but feel the anger growing in his chest “Tell me, what do a good doctor is supposed to do, huh? He must _heal_ people! I don’t do this! Sooner or later, all my patients die! All of them! Even the kids, even the ones that are close to me…” His eyes were watering. Was he really going to cry in front of a stranger? “Am I really a good oncologist when I can’t save who I love?”

The tanned-skin boy looked at him apologetically. _“People die. Your job is not to make them forever young or something, is just to give them enough time that they can do what actually matters, like chasing their dreams or staying with their families and friends. At least that’s what I think.”_

He turned around and starting walking straight to the door, and for some reason, Liam didn’t want him to leave.

“Wait…”

The other boy (well, boy at Liam’s eyes) looked over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips.

_“Yeah?”_

Liam sighed. He should apologize for screaming to him. God, he was getting good at being sorry for yelling (Louis and Niall may say so), all puppy eyes and unfallen tears and sad smiles holding to much sorrow (and self-pity, but he’d never admit that close to Louis; he’s been denying that for too long). But when he looked into Zayn’s eyes, he knew he wouldn’t have to. The other lad just knew what that pain felt like; losing someone you really love and care about. Of course, it wasn’t the same case. But they had a common ground to start from.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

Zayn smiled wider.

 

 

4 years later

Liam entered the cemetery with closed eyes, knowing the patch by his heart. He didn’t open then until he sat on the grass, looking at the gray stone tomb.

“Hi Harry. A lot happened since last week. Remember that I told you I’d propose Zayn? Well, I did. Last night. And he said yes! I’m really happy, and I’m sure you’re happy for me, too. Louis said you’d be. Talking about Louis, today is Darcy’s birthday party. Her actual birthday was Wednesday, but Louis and Niall decided to make the party today, because then all her friends from school could be here. You’d love her so much. You always loved kids, didn’t you? Remember when we met? You were making all those kids smile and laugh… And hey, remember Jenny? Henderson? She graduated high school last week, and she sent me a card. God, I cried so much! I’m a helpless sentimental, I know it. She said she missed us, Harry. Both of us. I guess she didn’t hear about you, but I think I wouldn’t like it the other way. It’s not like you never existed, or that the things you did are not your things anymore because you’re no longer here. Because you’ll always be, with me. And with Louis and Niall and even with Darcy, because she looks so much like you, with the curly hair and the dimples, and the smiles. Especially the smiles. But weirdly, they don’t make me sad. They make me happy, because then I remember how happy you used to be, how happy we used to be, and that’s enough, because if I can’t have you, at least I can remember you.

“Even Zayn reminds me of you… You two like the same bands and you dress up really alike… I guess I have a thing for hipsters. His fifth book will be published next month, and one of the characters is named Harry, after you. It’s a really good book, you’d like to read. Actually, I’m pretty sure both of you’d get along pretty well. You know, he’s okay with me coming here to talk to you. He said that I’m doing right, because he’d never ask me to erase you. He really won’t, I know this.

“Well, I gotta go now. If I’m late to her party, Darcy won’t forgive me for about five minutes (she looks a lot like Louis, I’m seriously worried with how Niall gonna raise his two kids)… I’ll see you next week, okay? Bye Harry, I love you, and I always will.”

And if Liam heard a faint _“Goodnight, Li”_ while he was leaving the cemetery, then it was his business and no one else’s.

**Author's Note:**

> hum... I'm sorry? I swear I didn't want Harry to die, but the prompt my imagination gave me was really specific.


End file.
